


i’m in here, can anybody see me? (can anybody help)

by Captain_Custos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gabriel is Trapped Inside Reaper, Limbo, M/M, Married Characters, Married Reaper76, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Reaper and Gabriel are Seperate Entities, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts (sort of), Temporary Character Death, mentions of dead bodies, slight body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Custos/pseuds/Captain_Custos
Summary: For nearly a decade, Gabriel Reyes has been trapped in his own skin, forced to watch as Reaper destroys everything he loves, unable to do a thing to stop him. He’s watched his friends and family slaughtered, and he’s prayed to anything left up there that Reaper never finds Jack.But then, as Reaper closes in on a lone Overwatch agent making his last stand in an old Norweigan warehouse, he finds himself sliding into a dream. A dream of holding Jack once more in the shadowy  quiet of the life they once shared. Only there’s a high likelihood that maybe it's not a dream, and if not, he needs to get Jack out of there quick before Reaper can finish the job.ORGabriel is stuck riding shotgun in his own corpse but gets to share a heartfelt moment with his husband’s soul as said evil corpse is draining the life out of him.





	i’m in here, can anybody see me? (can anybody help)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this is my first time writing in the Overwatch fandom, yikes yikes yikes. The title is from an old Sia song called (appropriately enough) I’m in Here. Its advised listening while reading, if you want to read to music, along with;
> 
> \- Epilogue by Keaton Henson  
> \- Gone by Ray BLK  
> \- Evening Blue by Ollie MN  
> \- Bloodsport by Raleigh Ritchie  
> \- I Will Wait by SOULS  
> \- Weak by Wet
> 
> enjoy <3

Its blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step.

At this hour when hearts, deep in their hiding places,

Have begun to hope once more, when they start their vigil

_-Be Near Me, by Faiz Ahmed Faiz_

 

Gabriel woke up.

Which is an odd statement to make because as far as he’d been aware, he hadn’t been asleep. No, he’d been riding shotgun in his own body as Reaper swept through an old warehouse, picking off gang members like it was a fairground game. There had been gunfire in front of him, and the sick knowledge that behind the cover of crates, an Overwatch agent had been holding their last stand. A loyalist, someone carrying on the good fight, about to meet their end by Reapers hand. 

They had been pulling closer, Reaper driving his corpse while Gabriel drifted on the edge of awareness, unable to lift a finger to stop him. Reaper had his guns out, cackling and crowing like he was putting on a show. Which he was in a way, Gabriel supposed. It was all a show to make sure that that Overwatch agent felt as scared and alone as possible, before Reaper descended, and Gabriel could put another petrified face into his own personal gallery of failures.

It was getting to be a large gallery.

Reaper dispensed with the last gang member, smoking up behind him and delivering a shotgun shell to the head. He was gleeful about the waste of the soul, revealed in the ability to simply kill him without the need to feed, knowing that a greater meal as waiting.

Gabriel felt nothing.

The agent behind the crates had gone silent, his weapon likely in a cool down phase. Reaper collapsed into a column of smoke, drifting across the floor in wide arcs like a snake, setting the scene for his victim. Gabriel had watched, mentally running through the names and faces of any Overwatch agent who could be important enough for this amount of spectacle. He watched as Reaper’s mass hit the stack of crates with an unnecessary boom, and then began to filter through the cracks like sand. Gabriel had closed his eyes tightly against the nausea that always followed this; the feeling of being deconstructed and forced into the shape of something he shouldn’t be.

And then he had woken up here.

He was on a bed, lying on his back, in a darkened room. It was nighttime, and a warm one at that. Sweat was sticking the thin sheets to his shoulder blades where he lay above them, and a smooth breeze rolled over his skin from an open window at the end of the bed, tickling the hair on his legs where they were exposed. The sound of waves sweeping across the shoreline could be heard coming from beyond the curtains, and he realised with a sick jolt that this was none other than his old bedroom in Gibraltar.

Their bedroom.

He felt an shredding pain pass through him. He couldn’t be here. Not here, not somewhere so consumed and devoted to the two of them. He didn’t get to have this serenity back. It couldn’t be allowed.   

He went to stand up, to close the window, to walk out the door, to strip the bed and smash the furniture, anything to get out of this torture, but was forced to stop when he realised he wasn’t alone. Someone was in the bed with him, on top of him, surrounding him, pressing him down into the mattress.

A heavy weight was spread over the lefthand side of his body, pressure resting on his chest. Limbs were tangled with his, a bare chilled foot pressed to the back of his knee, a hand cradling the curve of his ribs. Soft breathes ghosted over him, pooling along his clavicle. His own left arm was trapped by the physical bulk of a large body, bent around to rest on what he assumed was the slope of the other mans spine. Unable to bear looking, he reached his right hand up, feeling the tremor and quake in his arm as though it were lifting the weight of the world, and bought it to rest on the head lying across his chest.

His fingertips met and then spread hungrily over soft downy hair. It was short cut to a length and style that just scraped by the acceptable grooming regulations. Gabriel knew it would be that length. He was the one who had cut it that way, leant over the bathroom sink, trimmers and scissors carefully sculpting it back into order.

He choked out a sob and burrowed his fingers in, twisting them deep as he scraped over what he knew to be sensitive roots. His left arm, trapped as it was under the solid weight of the body, tightened around his partners waist, brushing his fingers over the hollow dimples of his spine. With his eyes squeezed shut, still unable to bring himself to look, he lent down and buried his nose in the scent of the other man. The smell of his lemon shampoo, the salty green cologne he wore, the slightly sour scent of sweat. The smell of Jack.

“Gabe?” Jack stirred awake, stretching a little and flexing his muscles so that Gabriel could exquisitely feel each one where it pressed against him; the thickly corded arm wrapped over his torso, the thigh slung lazily over his hip. Jack shifted his head, pressing his nose to the hollow of Gabriel's neck and pulled in a heaving breath.

“Mmm, you smell good.” The words left him with a heavy sigh. Gabriel had resist the urge to laugh. Or cry. Or do both. It was one or both. 

“You know, I remember this.” Jack mumbled, pressing dry lips to Gabriel's throat. “I remember this feeling.”

His fingernails scrapped over Gabriel's skin making him whimper. He could feel his heart breaking apart, didn’t know how this dream Jack couldn’t feel it too, shattering under the smooth plain of his cheek. 

“I’m glad i’m getting this, one last time. I don’t deserve it I guess, not from you, but thanks. Thank you”

Gabriel frowned, tightening his hand further on Jack’s scalp. What was he talking about?

“It won’t be long now, but thats ok. I’m tired Gabe. I’m so ready to go.”

Alarm bells were blaring through Gabriel's mind. He opened his eyes and felt his breathing stutter as he looked down at the familiar shape of his husband lying against him. His hair was pale, paler than it should be, cast nearly white in the Moonlight pouring through the open window. He could faintly see the scars on his back, long exclamation points and small periods scattered over his skin. There was the webbed burn from their firefight in Milan, the puckered surgery scar on his wrist where it had been shattered, the stretch marks on his shoulders where serum pushed his bones to quickly. There was Jack. 

“What do you mean?” He spoke to his dream. The voice coming past his lips was, for the first time in nearly a decade, his own. It was hoarse, and crackled with pain, but it was his own. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t know. Wherever it is people like me go.” Jack shrugged, his shoulder digging into Gabriel's chest. “Maybe its like Harry Potter, all I have to do is walk out that door and thats it. I’ll be done”

“Done with what?” He asked, but he already knew.

“With life Gabe. I’m so ready to be done.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say things like that.” He felt sick. Properly nauseatingly sick. He remembered this. Jacks bought's of depression. Remembered him lying in bed with his forehead pressed to the wall, too numb to cry. He remembered the fear that used to grip him when he noticed the Strike Commander staring into space, unable to reach the world around him. He remembered pills, and secrets, and this brutal feeling of his soul being hollowed out as he desperately wished he could push it into Jack, to make him whole again.

“Why not?” Jack asked, seemingly genuinely confused. He sifted his head, craning his neck up to look at Gabriel's face. His eyes were wide and watery and so, so blue. The blue of the Mediterranean sea outside of their window. Or of the cold sky that had spread above them as he’d taken his final breathes in Zürich. 

“Life’s done with me,” Jack continued, unaware of Gabriels panic. “Why can’t I be done with it? All it does is take. It took my family away when the omnics arrived, took my freedom away when I became Strike Commander, and then that took you away too. Not at once maybe, but I lost you in pieces, and that was so much worse. I lost pieces of you every time the job came first, every time we passed through these halls like ships in the night, every time we weren’t in here, in this room. I lost you so slowly I didn’t even realise until you were gone. So yeah Gabe, I think I’m done.”

Gabriel could feel the tears being pulled out of his eyes by gravity, spreading down his temples to soak into the pillow. Jack’s brow furrowed and he lifted his arm to touch Gabe’s face, to stroke the tears away and cup his cheek. The feeling of Jack’s palm, cool and dry as it always had been, the elegantly long bones of his fingers where they pressed against him, it only made the crying worse. How long had it been since Jack had held him like this? How long had it been since they were in this bedroom in this bed, wrapped in nothing more than each other?

Was it as long as Gabriel had been trapped inside Reaper? Longer?

“Hey, hey no. Don’t cry sweetheart.” Jack shifted over him, pulling his body up to rest his face next to Gabriel's on the pillow. He barely pushed himself up as he moved, instead letting his body drag over Gabriel’s own. The friction of their skin moving together, the feeling of Jack’s hand pressed in the pillow to bracket his face, the gentleness painted in his every move, it was salt being ground straight into the wound.

Jack settled, his head so close now that Gabriel could feel the ghost of his breath whistling over his lips. Jacks hand was back on his face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone.

“God, you are beautiful.” He whispered, less to Gabriel than to himself. "I forgot how fucking beautiful you were.”

His eyes flitted over every feature of Gabriel's face, fingers shifting to trace the line of his jaw, the curve of his nose. To press onto his lips. “Guess I don’t match up that well anymore.”

Gabriel frowns, but he knows what Jack is talking about. Now that he can fully see him, he realises he looks older. There’s crows feet that weren’t there last time they lay like this. The tension that he would hold between his brows and at the corners of his mouth has been carved in now with deep furrows. 

And there are scars.

Two of them, long and vicious. The first was slashed through his eyebrow and over the peak of his aquiline nose. It passed close enough to the eye that there must have been some sort of damage there, partial or complete loss of vision. The second scar bisected Jack’s mouth, draping over his chin. Its was as though some massive clawed beast has taken a swipe at him.

“Was this…” Gabriel doesn’t want to ask because if the answer is what he fears it wil be, it could destroy him. _Was this Reaper? Have we met again before, and I didn’t know you enough to see you? Did I forget you? Did I hurt you?_

“Zürich. That plate glass window in my office. When we were fighting, you tackled me to the ground right underneath it. When it exploded it got my face.”

“I remember.” Gabriel whispered. He really did. Screaming at Jack about how removed he had become, about how many people were dying, about how Jack didn’t even seem to care beyond facts and figures. How he’d forgotten about the weeping families left coffin side at the funerals. Then, finally, he’d punched him across the jaw, in the gut, tackled him to the ground and kept hitting. And then there was fire and the screeching of metal tearing in half as the room caved in on them.

Then there was blue. The endless blue of a winter sky spread open above him.

“I died there.” He whispered. It was just a fact, not a revelation. Gabriel Reyes had died on the cold cement floor of the Strike Commanders Zürich office, stabbed through the diaphragm with a 4ft long chunk of re-bar. The M.E had put it down as a cascade effect of massive blood loss, organ trauma, and asphyxia caused by the joint effort of a collapsed lung and his airway’s filling with blood. Gabriel Reyes died ugly and alone, his husband lying only 5 feet away, unconscious and unaware.

“I didn’t know.” Jack said, and he was pulled back into this moment, to the sound of Gibraltar waves and the cloud-soft mattress beneath him. Jack was still stroking his face, mapping his skin. His fingers were gripping firmer though, as if he was trying to crave him into his mind. “I woke up and I thought you were still there.”

Jack was crying now. These weren’t the same slow, instinctual tears that Gabriel was crying. They were big, shoulder shaking sobs. Jack slid his head forward on the pillow, and then his face was pressing into Gabriel’s. His arms tightened round him, and Gabriel did the same, and he thought that right there he might just shake apart. That all this grief and longing that he’d been clinging to for 7 long years, poured into this moment, was finally going to undo him. That it would carry his and Jacks souls somewhere far away.

“I always thought I’d feel it. When you died, I thought I’d know. That something would shift inside me automatically. But I didn’t. I called out to you, tried to get you to look at me. I didn’t see that you weren’t blinking, weren’t breathing, it was too dark. Or maybe I was ignoring it on purpose. It took an hour to pull myself out from under that wall.” He’s pressing his hand into Gabriel's chest now, feeling out the space where that gaping hole had been.

“You were already cold.”

Gabriel felt horror metastasis in his guts. He could imagine it, the mighty Jack Morrison dragging himself on broken legs to save him, and realising only as he reached out to touch that it was futile. Gabriel would have been dead for hours, he had crawled to save a corpse.

“Its ok Jack. It’s ok. I’m here. I’m still here”

“No, you’re not.” He sniffed, wiping at his eyes as he sobbed. “But its ok,” he smiled “because i’m coming to get you. Won’t be long now I guess”

He didn’t know why, but that statement was what made it all slot into place.

He’d had moments before, when Reaper stood over the body of someone he had known and he’d suddenly found himself elsewhere, looking into that persons face, listening to their last words, last thoughts, last moments. It seemed ironic to him that as Reaper crafted them into the angel of death, Gabriel found himself giving absolution as final confessional.

The warehouse, the stack of crates, Reaper seeping through the slats to unfurl himself over the rogue Overwatch agent making his final stand against the long dead shade of Gabriel Reyes. Waking up here.

It wasn’t a dream.

The rogue agent was Jack.

Gabriel felt fear grip him. He rocketed up in bed, unable to stay in this moment, unable to watch as Jack let himself drift away.

Jack rose to meet him as Gabriel frantically twisted in bed, looking for something, anything to help.

“Gabriel?”

There was the window at the foot of the bed, the view of the Eastern beach and glittering surface of the sea. Their communicators were lying discarded on the desk near the window, probably useless in this limbo. His one hope was the door on the lefthand side of the room, firmly locked as it always had been when they found themselves here together. Maybe Jack was right, just not in the way he thought. Maybe all he had to do was get him to walk out the door.

“Gabriel? whats wrong?” Jack was pulling at his face, trying to refocus his attentions. “Gabe, talk to me.”

“Where are you?” Gabriel looked back, grabbing Jack’s hands in his own. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m here, with you. Our bedroom in Gibraltar.” Jack was confused, his cheeks still ruddy with the after affect of crying, and god he was older. So much older than when Gabriel had last seen him. White haired and wrinkled, and still so gorgeous at 60. He should have known what this was sooner.

“No, no.” Gabriel squeezed his eyes closed, pressing his forehead back to Jack’s. This felt too much like dying all over again. “Stop running from reality Jack. Not where you want us to be. Where are you? Where _are_ you?”

“No, I don’t-“ Jack winced and cut himself off, looking down. “It’ll be over soon Gabe. It’s so close I can taste it, please.”

He slumped forward and pressed his head into Gabriel’s neck. “I’m tired Gabe, I just miss you so much. Let me be with you.”

“I’m here Jack”

“No, you’re not. Not really. Not yet” His lips stroked over Gabriel's neck and it felt like being set on fire.

“Jack. I’m here” He shook him hard, hard enough to make Jacks head snap back and cause the cluster of wedding rings and tags round his neck to clink noisily.“Look at me. I. am. Here. I am right in here with you. Where are you? Where are we?

Jack was looking scared now, finally scared. His hands came up to claw at Gabriel's arms trying to shake him off, and he really must have been right about that goddamn door because smoke was starting to waft in under the gap. 

“I’m in a warehouse, in Oslo. I’m dying. You’re- Reaper is killing me.” Gabriel tries very hard not to break at the slip between Jack knowing who Reaper is, and knowing who is doing this to him.

“Yeah, no. Not today.” Gabriel growled, yanking Jack off the bed and to his feet. It wasn’t a lot of smoke by the door, but it was enough to know Reaper was near. “Today, you’re going back through that door, and you are punching death directly in the fucking face. I’ll be with you, hold him off while you slip through.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand Jack? We’ve done this a million times just in reverse. This time I’m the distraction, and you’re the action. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time.” Gabriel was busying himself, looking round for a gun, a knife, anything he could wield against Reaper to let Jacks soul slip through. He’d learnt a long time ago that if he could visualise it, Reaper could be hurt if he wanted him to be. He was a simple man so he couldn’t just launch a theoretical offensive, he needed the idea of a weapon to focus on.

  
He was yanking out the draws in the desk, up-ending them onto the floor. The collected mess of their life here together came flying out; loose files, malfunctioning tech pens, the watch that he’d bought Jack for their 15th, expired protein bars, a stack of birthday cards that Gabriel couldn’t throw out, a beaten up copy of Birdsong, a hot pink hat that Ana had crocheted for him during her downtime. None of it deadly, none of it useful.

“Stop!”

Gabriel froze. The draw he was holding fell to the ground, cracking on the seam. That voice wasn’t Jack Morrison's, that was the voice of the Strike Commander, and it was enough to make lesser men cower. Gabriel hadn’t heard it directed his way in a very long time, and even back when he was Jacks superior, it was enough to freeze him in place. He turned slowly to face his husband.

Jack stood with his back to the door. His arms were folded, his face impassive, and in his nakedness he looked like a greek statue, carved from pure marble.

“What do you mean, ‘i’m in here with you’?”

He looked angry as he said it, but Gabriel was used to that kind of anger. It was the angry he got when he felt a situation slipping away from him.

“We don’t have time for this.” He said, finally seeing the edge of a knife poking out of Jack’s holster where it was slung over the back of the desk chair. He yanked it out, testing the blade edge on the hair of his arm, shaving a stamp sized patch clean.

“Bullshit we don’t have time for this,” Jack grabbed his wrist and yanked the knife away. “We’re in limbo we’ve got all the time in the world”

“No actually, we don’t” He took the knife back effortlessly, and Jack let him. “You see that door? Thats your way out, your way back to the real world. All this, this room, this memory, its not real. Or it is. It’s in your head, we’re in your head, or maybe my head. Possibly we’re somewhere in between and this is you reliving your greatest hits before he kills you. You see that smoke coming under the door? You know exactly what that is.”

“Reaper.” Jack whispered, and any remaining flush in his cheeks drained away in fear. Gabriel got hustling again, pushing Jack back until he hit the wall, and bracing himself against the door. Jack wasn’t having it though, he pulled him back around, fingers gripping to bloodlessness on his bare arms.

“How do you know this. Gabriel, stop and talk to me. How do you know this?”

“Because of what I said!” He yelled, turning to face Jack and pushing into his space. “Because I’m here. I’m in here. I’m always in here. Everything Reaper does, every move he makes, I’m inside watching. Like viewing my life through a one-way mirror, and I can’t- I can’t move, I can’t speak, I can’t do anything.”

“You’re in here you mean- you mean…you’re alive?” Jack whispered. His arms fell away as he stared at Gabriel in shock.

“I’m alive, i’m not alive, its really hard to explain it all.”

“Explain it.”

“So demanding Jackie. Always so demanding” He laughed wetly, and Jack gave him a shaky smile back. There were tears edging back into his eyes.

“My body is dead.” Jack winced at that. “I died in Zürich, just like you said. It must have been hours before you woke up, when it was still light out. When the rescue crews came, after you left, they pulled me out and took me to Angela. I don’t know the full details of what she did, but it was some sort of experimental nanotech booster.”

“She bought you back?” It sounded like something wonderful and sacred when Jack said it. Like it hadn’t been needles of black sludge being injected into the putrefying veins of a corpse.

“She played god. And not to be overly poetic, but in playing god she created a devil. Our very own Dr Frankenstein.” He laughed bitterly. “What the good doctor didn’t know was that the experimental tech had come straight from Talon R&D, the code already infected with Reaper.”

“Infected? Reaper is a virus?”

“Sort of, more like a preexisting program. The machines that repaired me fixed the hardware; my body. The software though, thats what we’re sharing now, that’s me and Reaper. What makes me me, its alive in here, gathering dust in the hard-drive. Reaper is like the operating system currently running the machine. I’m in here, I just can’t do anything”

“You’ve been in here this whole time? Trapped?”

“Yeah.”

“Gabriel.” His name passed over Jack’s lips like it was a sacrament, and it had been so long since since Gabriel had felt like this, the way that Jack’s love made him feel. Like he was something more than what he was, like he was worthy of worship. Glorified.

He knew time was running out, knew Reaper was closing in. If Jack didn’t get out now then he’d be gone. But this feeling, this giddy, holy feeling was overwhelming him like a drug. It had been so long, and Jack was so close, and when he walked out that door, Gabriel would be alone again.

So he kissed him. 

It was a taste he remembered so wonderfully well, the heated bitter flavour of Jack’s mouth. He drew his lip between his teeth, letting his tongue stroke over Jack’s, pouring every feeling, every aching moment of loss into the kiss. Jacks hands scrambled, unsure where to rest. His palm spread over the cool skin of Gabriel's shoulders, pushed up to wrap around his throat and brush against the peach fuzz of his hair.

It was intoxicating having this back, Jack whimpering into his mouth, teeth and tongues consuming each other in heat. This was what had been stolen from them. This is what life had stripped away.

There were only seconds left to spare, but for those seconds, he held his husband again.

He broke the kiss and Jack followed him out of it, stumbling into his space. He seemed just as drunk on the moment as Gabriel felt. A giddy smile broke over his face, over both their faces.

“I love you, Jack Morrison.” Gabriel choked back his tears and bought Jack’s hand up to his mouth, kissed his palm, then pulled on the tags around Jack’s neck and pressed their rings to his lips too. If this was goodbye, then he’d say it right this time. “From the first moment laid me out on the mat is sparring, I think I fell in love with you right then and there.”

“Broke your nose”

“Yeah you did sunshine, you broke my damn nose, and I fell in love.”

“I love you too. And I miss you. Like i’m cut in half” Jack swallowed, tracing his fingers over the edges of Gabriel’s beard, smoothing out his moustache as he’d done so many times before. “There are mornings I wake up and I forget for a moment, I let myself forget. I imagine the sound of your singing in the shower, imagine the smell of your awful body spray, those cigars you smoke. I imagine you, and then I remember and it makes me long for you so much my bones ache.”

“Sure thats not just old age, gramps?”

“Fuck you, i’m being romantic.”

Gabriel sniffed, and lent in to steal one last kiss. It was small, and soft, and perfect.

“We’re out of time now Jack. We have to go.”

He pulled away and grabbed the handle of the door, readying the knife in his hand.

“All you have to do, is charge through. Close your eyes, don’t breathe it in, and run. The smoke with be hot, like a furnace, so when you feel a chill you’ll know you’re out. Just run till you’re free.”

Jack nodded

“What about you?”

“I’ll hold him off. If I can get him to focus on me instead of on you, you’ll get further. Just promise me you won’t look back. Don’t wait for ‘me’, I won’t be there.”

“I’ll come back for you Gabe. I’ll call Angela, I’ll raid every Talon base I can, we’ll figure this out. I’ll come back for you.”

“It would be futile to ask you not to, right?”

“Right.” Jack grinned, the toothy vicious expression he wore into every battle they’d ever fought.

“On three, ok sunshine? One.”

“Two”

“Three.” The door flung open and Jack dove over him, trusting his instructions completely, and plunged into the smoke that rushed out to meet them.

Gabriel lunged forward after him, knife at the ready, and stabbed deep into the dark, praying to every saint in heaven that he could buy Jack just a little more time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading. I’m thinking of maybe writing a follow up to this, so let me know if you’d want a piece of that sweet action. In the meantime I’m working on....yet more Overwatch fanfiction.
> 
> Save me from this ship people, its going to eat me alive.
> 
> come visit me on tumblr at deathlydelicious.tumblr.com
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~8}


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